


Uncovered

by YouCantKeepMeDown



Series: Mafia Archangels [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate universe - Mafia, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Mobster Gabriel, Mobster Lucifer, Mobster Michael, Mobster Raphael, Stripper Sam, Under Cover Cop Sam, mention of murder, slightly angsty ending, tiny bit of gunplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 02:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13044279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown/pseuds/YouCantKeepMeDown
Summary: When Detective Sam Winchester gets assigned an under cover mission concerning the infamous Archangels he thinks it's a great opportunity. He doesn't expect to be absolutely fascinated by one of them.





	Uncovered

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the SPN Trope and AU Bingo for the square Secret Identity.
> 
> My wonderful beta reader coplins gave me the idea for this. It's not absolutely necessary to read the first part of the Mafia Archangels series to understand this.

Sam isn’t sure, if he is in trouble. Maybe he has complained too much about them telling him that there is nothing any of them can do about the Azazel case? In any case, he’s standing in Chief Henriksen’s office now, who is looking up from a file he had been reading.

“Detective Winchester,” Victor Henriksen says, “I called you here, because I have a slightly unconventional and very important mission for you. But your good work during the last year implies you can handle it. And frankly, you’re the only viable option for this job anyway.”

That sounds promising. Sam straightens up a bit more.

“I have to ask you a rather personal question, before I delve into details, though. I want to assure you that answering truthfully won’t impact negatively on your position here.”

That sounds less promising. Sam sends his boss a guarded look and waits.

“I really mean it, Winchester,” Henriksen says. “You’re doing good work. That’s all that counts.” He looks down at the file, hesitates for a moment, then goes on: “Are the rumors true that you worked as a stripper for a while?”

Oh shit. “You got that from Arthur Ketch, didn’t you?” Sam asks. Ketch has tried for a while now to find something to make Sam look bad. And after outing him as gay hadn’t done the trick, he’d started digging in Sam’s past.

Henriksen clears his throat in a way that says that was a good guess. “I don’t want to name names, but as I said, it won’t impact your position here in a negative way. To the contrary. It might be … important for the mission.”

Oh great. Sam has a feeling he knows what kind of mission this is going to be. “I ran away from home, and it presented itself as an option to earn money,” he answers carefully.

“Is that a yes?” Henriksen asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Sam’s boss looks kind of relieved. “Good. That’ll come in really handy, because we recently found out that a strip club aptly named _Heaven_ is the base of the Archangel’s operations here in San Francisco.”

Sam has heard of the Archangels of course. They control all kinds of illegal operations in at least five states. The excitement that he’ll get a mission concerning them makes up for the inconvenience that probably all of his colleagues will know of his stripper past soon. Sam is not particularly ashamed of it, but it’ll take months until they’ll stop teasing him for it.

“We think two of the Archangels will be here soon,” Henriksen says, “to oversee their business in San Francisco, and that’s our chance to find something to get them behind bars. I don’t have to tell you that they’ve eluded arrest in five states for quite a while now. Here are the mission details …”

* * *

**Archangel Group Chat**

**Michael** : Lucifer, Gabriel, I’m still waiting for your report.

 **Gabriel** : Don’t fret so much, Mikey. All is well. You’ll get a more detailed report from Lucifer later, but he made a new friend. Let him have some fun.

 **Raphael** : Do we want to know what kind of new friend you’re talking about?

 **Gabriel** : [A picture that shows Lucifer leaning back on a very comfortable looking couch in a strip club. On the table in front of him lies a tall young man with brown longish hair, who’s currently clad in nothing but booty shorts. One of his legs is wrapped around a pole dancing pole that’s mounted on the table. His head is halfway hanging off the table and he smirks around a grape that Lucifer is handfeeding him.]

 **Raphael** : …… As I thought, we didn’t want to know.

 **Michael** : Send another picture. One where he’s upright.

 **Gabriel** : Mikey, don’t you have a boyfriend? Leave some for us, will you?

 **Michael** : Gabriel!

 **Gabriel** : Fine, fine. Whatever got your panties in a twist now, here you go. [A picture of the same young man, this time upright, spinning around the pole in a gravity defying pose. He’s smiling and his eyes are on Lucifer, who’s sipping a drink, doing his best to look unimpressed.]

 **Michael** : Sorry to crush your party, but if I’m not completely mistaken, that’s Sam Winchester.

 **Gabriel** : Wait … Sam Winchester as in Dean Winchester’s brother? As in your boyfriend’s brother?

 **Michael** : Exactly. And the last time Dean heard from him, he was a cop.

 **Gabriel** : Shit.

 **Raphael** : Doing a background check right this minute …

 **Raphael** : …

 **Raphael** : He was hired as a stripper at _Heaven_ a month ago under the name of Sam Wesson. Everything held up. But there is a Sam Winchester in the local police force.

 **Gabriel** : Mikey, are you sure it’s him?

 **Michael** : Dean just confirmed it.

 **Raphael** : I advice we deal with this very discreetly.

 **Gabriel** : Lucifer won’t be happy. Me neither, by the way. I like the kid.

 **Michael** : Hold it! That’s my boyfriend’s little brother you’re talking about.

 **Gabriel** : Aww, getting soft, Mikey? That must be true love <3

 **Michael** : Cut it, Gabriel. Dig for something we can use against him, will you? Try and get him on our side.

 **Lucifer** : Fuck all of you, and back off! I’m going to deal with this, no one else.

 **Raphael** : Oh look, Lucifer deigns to join the conversation and he has adopted another lost cause …

 **Lucifer** : Fuck you in particular, sis. You called Ramsey a lost cause, too, and look at her now.

 **Michael** : Sam Winchester is not a badly behaved dog, Lucifer. Leave this to Gabriel, he has the people skills for it.

 **Lucifer** : I have fucking people skills, too, I just don’t waste them on ungrateful scum.

 **Gabriel** : Hey, cut out the fighting, will you? And as much as I’d like to have that gorgeous man eat fruit out of my hands ... since he laid eyes on Lucifer, he barely looked at anyone else. Apparently he has a type. Or a specific mission objective.

 **Michael** : Fine. Don’t screw this up, Lucifer.

 **Raphael** : If you do, I can still make it look like an accident.

 **Lucifer** : If I screw it up, I can make it look like an accident myself, thank you very much.

 **Michael** : Guys, I really don’t want to have to lie to my boyfriend about how his brother died.

 **Gabriel** : We got this, Mikey. Don’t worry.

* * *

Sam knows he has to stay professional, but on the other hand flirting with one of the Archangels is kind of what he’s supposed to do. Well, Henriksen hadn’t said anything about flirting per se, but he’s supposed to win their trust as much as possible and listen in on their conversations. Flirting serves that goal. He’s also enjoying it immensely to know Lucifer’s icy blue eyes on him while he’s playing with the hem of his shorts and sending suggestive looks the Archangel’s way. He’s never minded working as a Stripper, but something about the way Lucifer looks at him makes this actual fun. There’s nothing wrong with having fun at your job, though, is there?

Lucifer beckons with a slice of apple, and Sam bends down gracefully, one hand on the pole to keep his balance, the other behind his back, and takes it from Lucifer’s hand with his lips. When Lucifer had asked him, if they could get him something, too, with their drinks, Sam had asked for fresh fruit as a joke. After all he isn’t supposed to drink on the job. He hadn’t expected to actually get what he asked for, but this is pretty nice. And delicious. He straightens up again, chews, swallows and licks his lips, which makes Lucifer’s eyes go dark in a way he really likes seeing.

Half of the thrill of this is probably that he knows how dangerous this man is. He likes undercover missions, because deceiving people that would absolutely kill him, if they knew who he is, gives him a rush of power, something he feels almost bad for, but doesn’t because he’s dealing with bad people here. Criminals.

But there’s something else, too. Lucifer is watching him with actual interest. Looks at him, not just at the show Sam is putting up. And he’s flirting like you flirt with someone who actually has a choice. Lots of people don’t bother making themselves interesting to strippers. They just demand what they want. After all the strippers are here for their entertainment, aren’t they? Not Lucifer. Not even hand feeding Sam had been his idea. Sam had goaded him into that to see if he could.

Next to Lucifer Gabriel is staring at the screen of his phone. All the intel Sam got had marked him as the best target for what he’s doing with Lucifer instead right now. Not that Gabriel is any less dangerous than the other three, but he’s actually friendly, probably the easiest to get to. Sam’s decision to concentrate on Lucifer instead has not been professional at all.

Now Gabriel nudges his brother with his elbow, leans over to show him something on the screen. Lucifer’s eyes dart from left to right, reading. Sam tries to get a glance at the screen through one of the many mirrors in the bar, but can’t. Finally Lucifer nods. He takes something out of his pocket – a business card – and gets up. He sticks the card behind the hem of Sam’s shorts with a wink.

* * *

**Archangel Group Chat**

**Raphael** : How long are you planning to drag this out, Lucifer?

 **Lucifer** : Always so impatient. It’ll take as long as it takes. Sam’s a free spirit. He has to be lured in, not pressured.

 **Gabriel** : We also found a lure. Well, I found one. Luci’s just having all the fun in this.

 **Michael** : Quit complaining. What did you find?

 **Gabriel** : Azazel case. Short version is, Sam tried to prove that a guy named Frederic Azazel, who’s running an orphanage, is abusing the kids in his care. He didn’t find any conclusive evidence, though.

 **Lucifer** : Everything points to Azazel being guilty, there’s just nothing a court would accept.

 **Michael** : So we show Sam the benefits of working outside the law. I have to admit, that’s actually a good plan.

 **Lucifer** : No need to sound so surprised.

 **Gabriel** : To be fair your usual modus operandi is just killing everyone who’s in your way. 

**Lucifer** : Oh, sorry it comes as such a surprise that I actually know when that won’t work.

 **Raphael** : [Eye rolling emoji]

 **Raphael** : I’ll take care of that Azazel guy. Do you want it to be a gift or a bribe?

 **Lucifer** : Make it a gift.

 **Michael** : Lucifer, I hope you’re not falling in love.

 **Gabriel** : Luci, are you aware that you’re supposed to send flowers and shit, not dead bodies?

 **Lucifer** : Fuck both of you. My feelings won’t change the result. He’ll say yes to me.

* * *

Sam takes his time until he calls. Can’t look too desperate, even though he can’t get those icy blue eyes out of his mind for the rest of the day. And then there’s his mission. Of course he’s only so eager because of his mission.

He holds out until the next day. He’d worked the early evening shift as a waiter, because one of girls had gotten sick. He calls Lucifer as soon as he gets off.

“Yes?”

Sam’s heart speeds up, when he hears Lucifer’s voice. “My shift just ended.”

“Ah, Sammy.” There’s a smile in Lucifer’s voice. “And what do you want to do now?”

“How about dinner?” Sam asks.

Lucifer chuckles. “I get the feeling you’re just using me to get free food.”

“Well, maybe,” Sam teases.

On the other side of the line is a hum, half pleased, half thoughtful. “Do you own any fancy clothes?”

That sounds promising. “I think I can managed to find something.”

“Good. See you in an hour then. I’m going to pick you up.”

Only when they hang up Sam realizes that Lucifer hadn’t asked where to pick him up.

* * *

An hour later Lucifer still manages to find his way to Sam’s apartment – well, Sam Wesson’s apartment – without needing further directions. It’s a bit creepy, but he probably just lifted Sam’s address from the data he gave them at _Heaven_.

The restaurant Lucifer takes him to is good, but not so fancy that Sam doesn’t know what to do with himself, which is a good thing. They get a table that’s hidden away in a niche, giving them a lot of privacy. They order, making conversation the whole time. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to Lucifer. They’re both free thinkers. Lucifer complains about his father and Sam can all but agree. He sticks to the truth as much as possible to not get caught in contradicting lies. Says that he ran away, when his dad wanted him to join the military. Dean had served for a while, at least until John’s death. Then he’d opened his bar in Denver.

“And you became a stripper instead?” Lucifer asks.

Sam shrugs and gives a half smile. “I was young and needed the money. And I actually enjoy it.”

There’s a glint of something in Lucifer’s eyes that he can’t quite read. “You like teasing while people aren’t allowed to touch?”

Sam makes his smile grow more wicked at that. “I think that was obvious, wasn’t it?”

He’s rewarded with a low chuckle. For a moment, Lucifer just watches him, while his fingers glide along the stem of his wineglass. Sam’s eyes track the movement, captivated by it.

“So, you’re happy with being a stripper?” Lucifer’s voice startles Sam. “No dreams? No plans?”

“None.”

That’s a complete lie of course, and Lucifer seems to pick up on it. He leans forward, and suddenly there’s danger hanging in the air. “I don’t believe you.”

For a moment Sam can hear his own heartbeat, it’s loud and fast. He lowers his head and rubs his neck, plays like he’s embarrassed, while he thinks fast. He needs a half-truth in the least. “Well,” he says, “maybe I want to do something to help people.” Like becoming a cop, but he can’t says that. “Become a lawyer, but of course that’ll never happen.”

Lucifer leans back again, obviously satisfied with the answers. “Sometimes there is no way to help people inside the confinements of the law anyway,” he says.

And yes, that’s something Sam had been thinking about since the Azazel case. It’s scary how well Lucifer picked up on that.

“I have a gift for you that’s related to that actually,” Lucifer speaks up again. He reaches into an inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a photograph. He hands it over to Sam, and when Sam takes it, their fingers brush, Lucifer’s skin cool to the touch, but not unpleasantly so.

When Sam looks at the picture, he forgets to breathe for a moment.

He recognizes Azazel at once, even though there’s a clean hole in his forehead now, blood pooling on the floor underneath. And for a moment that sight brings Sam nothing but satisfaction.

Then realization sets in. Sam Wesson doesn’t have anything to do with Azazel. Sam Winchester does. In one movement Sam drops the picture and reaches for the gun he carries in a concealed holster.

Except the holster is empty.

When Sam looks at Lucifer again, there’s a gun lying next to his plate, Lucifer’s finger lightly caressing the handle like they’ve done with the wineglass before. “Looking for this?”

Shit. Sam freezes.

“Please,” Lucifer says, voice still friendly, “keep your hands above the table and listen.”

Sam swallows and puts his hands on both sides of his plate. “How did you find out?”

Lucifer smiles and picks the gun up now, still keeping it trained on Sam. And that really shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “Well, you see … Our older brothers are dating.”

“What?” From all possible answers Sam definitely hadn’t expected that. “You’re kidding, right?”

Lucifer grins. “I wish I was, because then I wouldn’t have to listen to them go about it every other day. Your brother is _loud_.”

This situation can’t get any more unreal, which is maybe why Sam finds himself pulling a face in sympathy. “Try sleeping in the room next to his for nineteen years.”

Now Lucifer’s eyes twinkle with amusement, and he leans forwards again. Strangely, despite the gun that’s still pointed at Sam, this time the movement is less threatening. “I like you, Sam, I really do. And of course Michael also kinda wants to avoid offing his boyfriend’s brother. That’s why I got you this.” He nods towards the picture that’s fallen on the table.

Sam picks it up again. His heart is still pumping adrenalin through his body fast, and he’s still trying to think of a way out of this situation, but not coming up with anything. For now the only thing he can do is continue this conversation. Looking down at the picture of Azazel’s face again, he can’t bring himself to feel sorry for the man. Of course him dying for his crimes is absolutely wrong, but at least the children are safe now, and that counts more in Sam’s opinion. “I have to admit it’s appreciated. What’ll happen to the children?”

“They’ll get a better caretaker.”

“Provided I become a dirty cop?”

Lucifer looks almost offended. “I told you this is a gift. They get a better caretaker either way.”

Sam blinks. That’s not how he imagined getting bribed works. “But you do want me to work for you?”

“We mostly just want you to keep away from us. Don’t interfere with our business. Drop the investigation. And if you do want to work for us, payment would be solutions for more cases like this.” Lucifer points towards the picture. “There’ll always be cases like this.”

Damn, if that doesn’t sound tempting. “I can’t drop the investigation without any reasons and without getting any results,” Sam protests anyway. And that’s most likely a very stupid thing to say, but he feels like this is an offence to his work ethics. Even though he considers giving in, mostly because Dean is connected to this. He can’t risk getting his brother behind bars. He may have run away from home, but that was because of John not because of Dean.

Lucifer watches him with a certain fondness, tapping his lower lip with his index finger in thought. “Would any kind of result suffice? Something that leads to a few arrests, but in the end won’t turn up anything to use against us?”

Sam bites his lower lip. He really considers giving in, does he? And maybe it’s not just Dean. He still kind of likes Lucifer, even though the guy has a gun pointed at him at the moment. “That would do,” he finally admits. No one has found anything to get the Archangels behind bars for years. It won’t sound that unlikely that he only was partially successful, too. Though Sam feels like a traitor to Henriksen, who had put his trust in him.

Lucifer smiles. He lifts his free hand in a gestures that tells Sam to wait, then he pulls a smartphone from his pocket. The call he makes is very short. He ends it with: “Thanks, Michael.” Then he places the gun next to his plate and scribbles something on a napkin. While he hands it to Sam, he picks the gun up again. Their fingers brush like last time, and the short touch is still not unpleasant at all.

On the napkin is a time and an address. “What is this?” Sam asks.

“Drugs deal”, Lucifer says. “Unless you want to bust something else?”

Sam pulls a face. Getting handed something like that on a silver plate makes it taste bitter. “Drugs’ll do.”

“Tell them it’s possible that I’ll be there.” The way he says this makes it sound like all of this is a set deal already and he expects Sam to do as he’s told.

“Don’t make it sound like I’m taking orders from you.” This is very bitter, indeed. The only thing that makes it better is looking down at the picture of Azazel and thinking of Dean, who has a really poor taste in boyfriends, but is still Sam’s brother and doesn’t deserve to get in trouble.

Lucifer looks at him with a serious expression, head tilted to the side a little. “Well, let me put it that way. If you want to, you can tell them that you heard I’ll be there. I’ll make it look like I got away, before they get there. That way it looks like you did really good work and someone else messed up.”

“So considerate,” Sam snarks.

“Anything for you, Sammy,” Lucifer says with a grin.

Sullenly, Sam nods towards the gun Lucifer is still holding. “Can I get my gun back, too?”

“Sure.” This time Lucifer gets up. Handing it over the table would make it possible for people outside the niche to see it. Lucifer steps close to Sam’s chair, blocking the view from the rest of the room with his body. Instead of handing it over, though, he keeps it loosely pointed at Sam. “I have one last question, though.” He places one hand on the armrest of Sam’s chair and leans down a little. Sam automatically tilts his head back to look Lucifer in the eyes. “The flirting,” Lucifer goes on. “Was that purely for the job?”

Now it’s Sam turn to grin. “Are you hoping it wasn’t?” It makes him way too happy thinking that this might be the case.

“Still teasing, Sammy?” Lucifer asks, voice low.

“What can I says, teasing you is fun.” And now that he’s made mafia deal, why not get something more out of this evening? It’s not like anything he can do now could be any more unethical. Sam tilts his head up even more, lifts his face towards Lucifer’s. But suddenly the barrel of his own gun presses against his collarbone and shoves him back into his chair.

“No more games, Sam.”

Sam meets Lucifer’s eyes, and there’s a sincerity there that makes him forget the bitter taste of the deal he just made and makes him regret that this evening is the only one they’re probably going to have together. The grin slips from his face. “Everything that I knew about you indicated that it’d be the smarter move to go for Gabriel.”

“Is that so?” Lucifer asks, triumph in his eyes now. “Well, then, what do you think about making all of this a bit more believable?”

“How so?” Sam feels the cold of the gun’s metal seep through his shirt, but by now that just adds to how fast his heart is beating from excitement.

Lucifer fakes a thoughtful expression. “How about this? I took you home. We spent the night. You went through some of my things, while I was still sleeping, and found the time and the address on my phone, indicating there was something going down there.” While he speaks, the barrel of the gun drags higher, and Sam’s breath hitches, when it touches the skin of his neck. Lucifer stops, tilting his head in question, and Sam’s pretty sure that question does not only include the things he said.

“Sounds good to me,” Sam says, voice a bit husky.

The next moment the barrels of the gun presses under his chin, tilting his head up again, and Sam grabs Lucifer’s shoulders to pull him all the way down for a kiss. With all the adrenaline coursing through his body the first touch of lips on lips feels like an electric spark. Sam opens his mouth in a soft gasp, breathing in Lucifer’s breath. Then he deepens the kiss.

That’s the moment someone clears their throat behind Lucifer in a very polite way. Sam groans, and Lucifer straightens up, sliping the gun into the holster underneath Sam’s jacket while he does so.

“Sorry,” he says, while he turns to the waiter behind him. “We’ll behave.”

“Thank you, sir.”

* * *

When Sam leaves Lucifer’s apartment the next morning, he does so very reluctantly. He’s not sure, if Lucifer had still been sleeping, while Sam had collected his clothes, but if so he’d faked it well. It’s better that way. Probably none of them would’ve known how to say goodbye. Dean might have no trouble with having a mafia boss as his boyfriend, but for now all Sam is willing to do is stay away from everything the Archangels touch. If Henriksen asks, he’ll tell him the truth: That he fell in love a little bit and that he fears he won’t be able to stay professional next time.

The biggest lie about that is that he only fell in love a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> There's still more to come in this verse. I won't leave Sam and Lucifer hanging like this, promised.


End file.
